Run Faster
by Syphonus
Summary: They say there's a fine line between genius and insanity. Just because Ginny Weasley's friends with Draco, sharing a body with Tom Riddle, and planning on resurrecting 'Diary Tom' doesn't mean she's INSANE, right? Pairings & such inside.
1. Revelations

PRE-CHAPTER A/N: It's been edited, it's been changed a bit, and it's been beta-ed. Yay. Also, FFnet is a _whore _about formatting. Damn you, auto-format! Damn you!

This story is mainly Tom/Ginny. There will probably be Draco/Ginny references, but nothing serious. I might plan on hooking Draco and Harry up later, just because I absolutely love that pairing... And there _will _be homosexual themes later even if I don't hook them up -- you can _count _on that. I'm not warning about it, and I won't put a big bold warning at the beginning of a chapter or anything... If I should have to do that, then I should ahve to put up big warnings about heterosexual themes. Sorry, that's just the way it's going to be. Gays and lesbians _do _exist, and they exist in literature as well. If you don't like that, then don't read my story. It's as simple as that.

This is Pre-OotP, so if I have any information that's not canon past book four, forgive me.

Oh, and I do know that the diary's magical properties left when the ink spilled out of the diary thanks to Harry dearest, but I'm ignoring that. K?

Furthermore, I promise that you will not find any disgusting cliches that make you want to rip yor eyes out in my story. Examples:  
1. "So wrong, but so right..."  
2. "He's so hot... WAIT I TOTALLY DID NOT JUST THINK THAT!"  
3. "Their bodies fit perfectly together..."  
ICK. Are you cringing yet? I am.

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* * *

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_Steal the secrets of the sun,  
Run faster if you dare...  
_J. Miller: Run Faster

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Ginny followed behind Ron and Harry, heading into Diagon Alley. Her rucksack was weighted down with money, because of fantastic profits from summer jobs. She had requested a Time Turner from Dumbledore so she could work multiple jobs at the same time, and surprisingly, he had sent her one. 'Multiple' meant not one, not two, not even three, but five well-paying jobs over the summer. She had put half of the money in the bank, but still had about enough to rival what Malfoy's dearest daddy was going to spend on him for the upcoming school year.

Ron and Harry stopped abruptly in front of the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies, and Ginny nearly bowled right into them. She stood behind them, standing on her tiptoes trying to see what they were looking at. Impatiently, she pushed the two apart enough to see what the fuss was about: the latest broom model — the Firebolt X. Her eyes widened as she looked at the woodwork and detailing of said broom.

"- and I think you should buy it, Harry." Ginny caught the end of Ron's sentence.

"Zero to 200 in 9.8 seconds," Harry admired, "It would be great to see the look on Malfoy's face if I walked onto the pitch with this thing..."

'Well,' Ginny thought, 'if I'm going to try out for the Quidditch team, I might as well get my own broom...'

She watched Ron and Harry ramble on about the broom, making strange faces and odd hand gestures to demonstrate their excitement over the Fantastic Almighty Holy Firebolt X of Spectacular Spectacularness. Granted it was a fantastic broom, and what better broom to buy if she was already planning on getting one? Ginny started to make her way toward the door to the shop, but faltered when Ron called out obnoxiously. "Hey, Gin!"

She turned to face him. "Uh huh?"

"Do you think it's Firebolt X as in 'eks' or 'ten'?" he asked, pronouncing the 'X' as 'ten.' "X as in 'eks.'" She rolled her eyes.

'Ron would die of laughter if he knew that I was planning on trying out,' she thought, thinking better of buying the broom while they were around.

She turned to enter the stationary shop, and Ron and Harry followed shortly after.

Ginny had originally planned on trying out for the Chaser position, but after filling in for Fred or George numerous times on the weekends over the summer, she had come to the conclusion that the Beater position was much more appealing.

After grabbing a few rolls of parchment, bottles of red and gold ink (to support Gryffindor, of course), and an array of other coloured inks, Ginny headed to pick out new quills — this would probably be the only time she would be able to choose anything other than standard ones, after all. She picked up a few beautiful quills with black feathers and the Japanese characters for the different elements on them, an "Unbreakable!" Phoenix-feather quill and a few Chudley Cannons quills for Ron, then promptly checked out. Literally tossing the Chudley Cannons quills to Ron, she waved good-bye to the boys (who were nowhere near done shopping) and left for Flourish and Blotts.

-

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Ginny wandered aimlessly through the bookstore, browsing titles and not putting much effort into searching for her sixth-year textbooks. She managed to collect _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six_ by Miranda Goshawk and _Magical Drafts and Potions for the Advanced Student_ by Arsenius Jigger as she surveyed the bookcases.

"Talk about luck," she muttered, grabbing the last copy of _The Beater's Bible_ by Brutus Scrimgeour. She hastily hid it in between two other books, turning it so the title couldn't be seen.

A few minutes later, Ginny stood in the checkout line with her textbooks and a few extra Quidditch books, including _Beating the Bludgers — A Study of Defensive Strategies in Quidditch_ by Kennilworthy Whisp. She sighed, placing the books on the counter, letting the clerk ring them up.

"Ten Galleons, eight Sickles, and twelve Knuts, please," said the clerk.

"Since when are books so expensive," Ginny muttered under her breath, reaching into her rucksack and pulling out her money pouch. She handed the clerk the correct amount of coins, took the bag of books, and headed next door to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions - a place that she had never been to in her entire sixteen years in existence.

"Welcome, welcome! I am Madam Malkin, and I have robes for all occasions! What are you looking for, dear? Lengthening? No, you're already quite tall... Spangled? Self-ironing? Slimming, fattening, beautifying, temperature-adjusting, even plain - we have them all!" exclaimed an energetic, squat woman.

"Er... I need Hogwarts robes, and dress robes. How much do the temperature-adjusting cloaks cost?" Ginny asked.

"Oh dearest girl, aren't you in luck! We're having a wonderful sale on almost all of our robes, for today only! Cloaks of the temperature-adjusting variety will only cost you four Galleons and four Sickles!"

"And the self-ironing robes?"

"They're two Galleons and nine Sickles — a _steal_, if I do say so myself!"

Ginny nodded. "I'll take six Hogwarts robes of the self-ironing kind, and three temperature-adjusting cloaks –" She paused, spotting three beautiful dress robes on display in the back of the store.

The first was an emerald green satin dress with a wide neck and short sleeves. It had multi-corsets that led into a very flowing skirt, which would no doubt twirl around. The second was form-fitting black velvet and had a low cut V-neck and inch-thick straps. It tied from below the breast all the way down to mid-thigh with black satin. But the last of the three was by far the most beautiful. It was ivory velvet and had a square-cut neck, with the bell-sleeves open to the shoulders. The sleeves also had slits on the underside from the elbow to the ends. There were satin laces on the sides of the torso, which tied in bows at the hips and the extra material hung down by where a person's legs would be. The skirt of the dress was flowing, with an uneven cut on the bottom.

"How much are those?" Ginny asked.

"Oh, deary. Those are not on sale..." Madam Malkin said sheepishly.

"How much are they?"

"I'm not sure if you could afford them…"

"How _much_!"

"25Galleons15Sicklesand18Knuts!" Madam Malkin exclaimed quickly, flustered and startled by Ginny's persistence.

Ginny could only buy one of the dress robes if she wanted to have money left over for the broom and the rest of her school supplies, but she didn't even have to think about which one she would choose. "I'll take the green one on top of the other robes."

Madam Malkin nodded. "…Are bags alright, dear?"

Ginny gave a short, curt nod. Madam Malkin turned on her heel and rushed off to collect the robes, bag them, and ring them up. After all, customers willing to pay giant Galleons for an outfit were her favourite kind.

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An hour later, Ginny walked into Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Her pack was stuffed to the brim with items; she carried multiple bags on each arm, and a Crup puppy mischievously followed behind her, trying to attack her new black knee-high boots. 

"Oy, Gin! Where 'ave you been!" Ron called.

"You're turning into a Cockney, Ron," she said, making a face. "And I've been shopping."

She let her bags slide off her arms as she pulled out a chair and plopped down on it. The Crup puppy jumped up into her lap, lying down.

"You bought all that _and_ a Crup? Way to save your money, Gin," Harry teased.

"A-Actually, I got him really cheap. The lady at Magical M-Menagerie — the one with the heavy black spectacles, I can never remember her name — said that he was quite the t-troublemaker, and he wouldn't sell. He took a liking to me, and so she sold him to me for a little over three Galleons," Ginny stumbled over her own words. Harry had always seemed to hold power over her: all he had to do was speak or even look at her and she was at a loss for words, or blushing, or acting like a complete idiot — most of the times, it included all three.

"Oh yeah, Gin, _that's_ cheap! Cheap is one Galleon –"

"Ron!" Hermione cut him off.

'When did she show up,' Ginny thought. Not that she wanted to see her anyway, but she didn't really have much of a choice. She leaned back, pulling her legs up onto the chair cross-legged. Ginny stroked the small Crup's back, regaining her self-composure and ignoring Hermione.

"Considering he's purebred and would have been twenty-five galleons if he weren't on sale, it's cheap," she countered, lifting her chin in the air. "I'm thinking of naming him Mercutio, since he's such a troublemaker. Mercutio was my favourite character in Romeo and Juliet. Or Tybalt — well, no, Tybalt is more of just a big jerk. He's definitely not a Romeo, or a Benvolio. Ha! Benvolio, the peacekeeper! That's the exact opposite of what this little troublemaker is," she laughed. "Maybe I should name him that just to be oxymoronic..."

Ron completely ignored Ginny, his eyes falling on one of her shopping bags. Ginny looked at him strangely for a minute, but his gaze didn't leave the bag. She looked from him, to the bag, to him again, then to the bag again, not understanding what was so mesmerizing.

"What?" she asked.

"Since when do you shop at Quality Quidditch Supplies?"

Ginny's face flushed. 'So much for him not finding out,' she thought. "I... I... I don't, Madam Malkin ran out of bags and had to borrow some from QQS..."

"But there's a Madam Malkin's bag right here," Harry said.

If Ginny hadn't had a crush on Harry, she probably would have wrung his neck. She, with all the Gryffindor bravery she could muster, scoffed at Harry. "D-Do you have to be so bloody observant all the time? So what, I went shopping at Quality Quidditch Supplies, okay? Why is that such a crime?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other with confused looks on their faces. "But... Why would you go to QQS?" Ron asked.

Ginny growled in frustration. "One of you is too observant, the other isn't observant enough. You two make a great pair, y'know that?" She sighed. "I'm trying out for the Quidditch team this year."

Ron's face remained blank. "…There's not a Chaser spot open, Gin."

"I know that, you dolt!" She rolled her eyes, pausing before admitting, "I'm trying out for Beater."

Hermione nearly choked on her ice cream, and she spat what was left in her mouth back into the bowl. She didn't even bother to wipe the melting ice cream that was dripping down her chin and onto the table before talking. "You're going out for Beater? You're going to get yourself killed! Gin, I understand that you want to play Quidditch, and you're good for... a girl, but seriously! A _Beater_, Gin?"

Ginny's eyes widened with anger. She was good for a girl? She was good for a _girl!_ She was good for anybody! It's not like she couldn't handle Bludgers; she certainly had the muscle, and she played Beater all the time over the summer. And it wasn't like she was too little — she was 5'11", which was way taller than most girls her age and she hadn't even finished going through puberty.

"Gee, Hermione, thanks for your support," Ginny seethed.

'I'll make sure to hit a Bludger at her first,' she thought.

It's not like she liked Hermione anyway; she was always sticking her nose where it didn't belong and tended to show up at the worst time to give her opinion on the matter at hand. She never hesitated to give advice either, especially when it wasn't wanted. For a brainiac, she really was lacking in the common sense department. It's pretty obvious that when you're given the cold shoulder, ignored, growled at, and nearly beaten to death, you're not wanted around.

"Gin, school Quidditch isn't at all like backyard Quidditch... There's rules, and terms, and –"

Ginny pulled out the Quidditch books that she had purchased and set them on the table. "I've got it covered. And it's not like I'm not strong enough. You and Harry both know that I spent the time that I wasn't working over the summer boxing."

"What about a broom? You can't use school brooms - they're slower than Polyjuice Potion on a cold day," Ron said.

"Yeah, I kind of... have one..." she nearly whispered. She grabbed the QQS bag and pulled out the broomstick, which was wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. Ginny untied the package and pulled the paper open, revealing the beautiful new (expensive) Firebolt X model.

"Merlin, Gin!" Harry exclaimed. Ron reached for the broom, but Ginny slapped at his wrists, not letting him have it. But as soon as Harry went to take it, she froze, her breath caught in her throat. Harry, thankfully, realized that his wrists would probably get slapped, and his hands dropped to his sides. Ginny's breathing returned to its normal state.

"You're real lucky to have that, y'know?" Harry smiled. If she were to die then, she'd die a happy woman. "We hope you get on the team. Right, Ron?"

"Er... Yeah, and I hope you don't get yourself killed."

Rolling her eyes, Ginny rewrapped the broom, and tucked it into the QQS bag. "Whatever, I'm going home."

-

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"This really sucks," Ginny said to herself, studying her reflection in the mirror. She looked as plain as ever, with her stick-straight flaming red hair, pale complexion, freckles - which, thankfully, had reduced themselves to just a few sprinkled here and there. She grabbed the insta-dye she had "borrowed" from her mum (she had seen her use it to cover her gray hairs, and the box said 'any colour') and squeezed some of the dye into her plastic-glove covered hands. 

In the end, she chose an auburn colour that was darker and didn't quite scream "red!" as much as her natural hair colour. She also chose black and gold streaks on the underside of her hair, which were visible through her incredibly choppy layers.

"Gin, Mum is going to murder you when she sees your hair!" Ron shouted at her.

"She's not going to see it," Ginny said. "I'm leaving for King's Cross before she gets home."

"Well I see it, and I don't like it!"

Ginny extended her leg, and with one quick motion, she kicked the door of the bathroom shut, almost literally on Ron's face. Finally, she finished rinsing her hair, and she wrapped a towel over her hair turban-style, and then went back to her bedroom. She opened her wardrobe, and realized that the only clean outfits that she had were from a Muggle store. "Well, shit!" Ginny mumbled, mentally kicking, punching, and all-around beating herself silly because she forgot to have her mum wash her dirty laundry.

Sighing at her own stupidity, she pulled on a comfortable pair of jeans and tied them with a black and gray cloth belt that had originally gone to one of her old robes. Then she slipped into a black In Flames tour t-shirt. Ginny stepped into her new boots and attached a silver chain-link bracelet around her wrist. Even though she wore makeup, it was almost always naturally-coloured, and she didn't go too heavy on the eyeliner or mascara. She finished the look with a single coat of Sparkling Melon lip balm, then grabbed her trunk and pack and headed to the fireplace, where she would then Floo to the King's Cross Station and, ultimately, Platform 9 3/4.

Ginny quite literally dragged her trunk with her as she walked down the corridor of the train, searching for an empty compartment. She rolled her eyes as she saw Draco Malfoy and his cronies — Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, and Millicent Bulstrode — walk towards her.

"Aw, look, the Weaslette's all alone," Draco mocked. "What, did the Dream Team -"

"Malfoy, I've avoided you thus far, watch as I avoid you some more," she said, rolling her eyes. Ginny walked past him, her shoulder bumping into his as she continued. Her trunk nearly bowled Crabbe and Goyle over, while Millicent and Pansy shrieked like banshees and jumped out of the way.

As Ginny walked away, Draco finally realized what was different about the youngest of the Weasleys - other than her calm confidence. Her hair was less of a fireball, and she was dressed distastefully in Muggle attire (although they definitely did not look unappealing to the eye).

After shutting the compartment door and sliding her trunk into the compartment under the seat, Ginny sat down, staring out the window. The door slid back open, but Ginny didn't pay attention to it. Instead, she hummed lightly to herself and waited for the train to start. She saw people scrambling around on the platform, including Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

"Weaslette!"

"Hmm?" Ginny mumbled.

"I said I want this compartment," Draco drawled.

"Yeah, okay." Ginny snorted. She didn't move. Rolling his eyes, Draco entered the compartment and stood in front of Ginny. She didn't acknowledge his presence. He waved his hands around, snapped his fingers - but she still just stared out the window.

"Weaslette, are you going to move or am I going to have to drag you out?"

"I'm pretty sure that the correct answer is 'neither.'"

Draco's eye twitched and he reached for his wand. Ginny grabbed his wrist. Finally, she looked up at him. Unlike Harry or Ron or Hermione, she was not angry or annoyed. Her eyes were completely carefree. "Malfoy, I'm not leaving. You are."

"I don't think you understand what I said, Weaslette," he sneered, reeling back from her touch. "I. Want. This compartment. Which means you're leaving. And don't you dare touch me! Merlin, Weasley germs, how lovely."

"No, I really don't think you want this one. I've infested it with Weasley germs." She smiled at her sarcasm.

"Why are you so bloody cheerful!" Draco screamed. He turned her face so she would look at him, and he nearly hunched over her. "Can't you see I'm trying to get a rise out of you? And all you can do is sit there and act happy about this? First you ignore me. Then I say I want the compartment, and you say I don't. I insult you, and you insult yourself. What the hell is wrong with you?"

A smile slowly broke out across Ginny's face. "Because Draco, I got a rise out of you." Laughing, she pulled her legs up onto the seat with her. She reached up and tucked her hair behind her ears as she calmed herself. It really wasn't hard to find out what angered the Ferret after six years. Draco was about to shoot back a witty remark, but Ron, Harry, and Hermione came to 'save the day' just before he could.

"Get away from my sister, you bloody prat! You'd probably pull an Avada Kedavra or one of the Unforgivables -"

Ginny reached down, and unzipped her boot as Ron rambled on about how Malfoy was evil. She pulled her boot off of her foot and threw it at Ron. She missed his head, but hit him in the shoulder - which was just as effective, because it got him to shut up.

"Bloody hell, Gin, what was that for?"

"I can take care of myself; I don't need any of you to come and rescue me. All he was trying to do was make me angry, but it worked in reverse -"

"Actually, you were lucky that we showed up, Ginny. We've learned curses that you haven't, which also means we know the counter. If he threw a curse at you that you didn't know the counter to -"

"Oh god, Hermione, do us all a favour and shut up." Ginny rolled her eyes. Hermione's jaw dropped. "He didn't even notice that I took his wand. He was too preoccupied with 'Weasley germs' on his wrist."

"You took my wand?" Draco shouted, but Ginny continued talking.

"He couldn't have thrown anything at me. And Ron, you do a lot more distracting than saving these days, and even so, I don't need you for either. Harry was probably the only one with half a brain, here. He stayed out of this - which is a surprise."

"You're acting like... like... like a Slytherin!" Ron shouted.

"Ouch, Ronnie, real deep," Ginny teased. "You're still my brother and I still love you, but I don't need your protection. Honestly. You three can run along now. I've got this under control."

Hermione 'hmphed' and she, Ron, and Harry left to find themselves a compartment. Ginny threw Draco's wand out the door. "Go fetch," she said. As soon as he was out the door, she drew her own wand to shut and lock the door. After the door was shut, it registered to Ginny that the back of Draco's hair was dyed black and spiked outward. She vaguely remembered the front of his hair being longer and in his eyes more, as well.

'That's so…' she thought, searching for the right Muggle word, 'Emo.'

-

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It took Ginny Weasley five years to trust diaries again. As of last year, she had started keeping one again - and thankfully, this one didn't involve anyone who talked back to her. 

_1 September 1997_

_Stupid brother with his stupid friends. And stupid Malfoy for even bothering me in the first place. I'm sick of them all. I wonder if Dumbledore would let me be an exchange student or something. No one trusts me, because I'm still "that creepy chick" or "the girl who nearly killed us all." And look at what a fabulous life I have: I sit here and tell all my problems to a bloody diary. _

_This is really terrible of me, I know. But I honestly wish that sometimes, maybe Tom didn't have to go away. He was my first and only best friend (if I could even call him that; in the end I wasn't even his friend). When I found out that he had tricked me, I didn't hate him. Actually, I was mad at Harry for destroying the diary. I wanted to ask Tom, 'Why? Why did you try to kill me?' and 'Would you have saved me after you came back?' and sometimes I even think that I was willing to die for him. Not as in to let the world go to hell. Or because I was so incredibly enamoured by him. I mean it as in I would die to save a friend. Would that be considered 'saving'? _

_I want to stay in this timeline for Quidditch. That is, if I even get on the team. But, maybe I could go visit his time, and then come back? Maybe I could bring him back to this time period? Or – _

Ginny stopped writing. Harry didn't destroy the diary — He gave it back to Lucius. She remembered, because he had hidden a sock in it, and Lucius, out of sheer stupidity, handed the diary to Dobby. And that was when Dobby was freed. So, if the diary was still intact, it meant that it was somewhere in the Malfoy Manor library. Maybe it had a few ugly holes, but it was probably still usable.

She had to have it.

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"Ow! Jesus!" Ginny shouted after someone walked right smack into her. 

"You can call me Malfoy in public, Weaslette." Ginny was surprised that he even knew who Jesus was. A

Malfoy was not one to be known for having knowledge of Muggle mythology. 

She looked up and snickered to herself. "Oh no, Weasley germs! Ahh! You're going to die!"

"Ha ha, very funny. I wouldn't be surprised if I did die."

"Well, at least then there'd be one less moron to deal with." She paused. "So, wanna do me a favour?"

Draco resisted the urge to laugh out loud. "Me? Do you a favour? I don't do anyone favours, let alone Weasleys."

"Hmm, too bad then." She shrugged, and continued walking to lunch, humming to herself. 'Three, two, one...'

Draco turned, running to catch up with her. "So that's it? No protests?"

"If you can't help me, then I'll find someone who can."

"Well, if you want to get laid that bad, Weaslette –" Ginny stopped. She threw her head back in laughter at Draco's comment. She collected herself, running her fingers through her hair.

"Why are you not trying to murder me?" she pondered aloud.

"I may think you're stark-raving mad, but you're the only person who truly angers me. You get respect for that."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Well, okay then... So, how about helping me?"

"I told you, if you really want to get laid –"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I want Tom Riddle's diary."

It was Draco's turn to laugh. It took him over a minute to actually calm down, and Ginny scrunched her face up impatiently at him. When he finally settled down, he looked at her like she had grown a second head. "I thought you were stark-raving mad before, but this... Are you really trying to get yourself killed?"

"Eh, no... You wouldn't understand it, because you've probably never missed anything in your life. You get what you want and do what you will." She paused again. "And plus, it's not like you even have any friends in the first place."

"I do too have friends!" He sneered at her. "What do I get out of it?"

"Anything that doesn't involve sex."

Draco pondered the offer. He had everything he wanted, as Ginny said so herself. And if he didn't have it, all he had to do was owl his father and he'd get it within the next day. So what could Ginny Weasley offer to him that he couldn't get anywhere else? He had absolutely no idea.

"Can I take a rain check on that?"

Ginny nodded. "If I get the diary by Thursday."

"Done."

Ginny turned and continued to walk to lunch, Draco alongside her. Both of them were unaware of what an odd spectacle they were.

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POST-CHAPTER NOTES: Since people in the Wizarding world do not follow any religions, and since religions _ are_ mythology, Jesus gets noted as a mythological figure rather than a religious figure. Just FYI.

PS: J. Miller is a local musician who's absolutely fantastic. If you're interested in his music, I can send it to you. Just let me know.


	2. The Reinstatement

PRE-CHAPTER NOTES: I'm usually not big on writing huge author's notes at the beginning of a chapter. And I usually don't answer people's reviews, because mostly they're just 'good job!' or something along those lines. And quite frankly, those aren't worth responding to. However, I was re-reading my reviews, and I decided that I'd be answer one that I received wayyyyy back in pastland of 2005. It was left as a review to chapter two (this chapter) before it was edited and extended. Kind of awkward to anyone who hasn't read the unedited chapter, but oh well. And I quote:

_okay i do not like mary sues much why do you make her know every thing it s stupid plus if harry found out he would kill her you are one weird chickmonk. plus its okay long as she does not know everything so write on and plus tom killed his father just to let you know so toodles and update soon and please dont make her know every thing its anoying.! toodels _

So naturally, I felt the urge to defend my story:

Ginny is not a Mary-Sue in my story, and she definitely does not know everything. I figure she'd be well-informed because she's part of DA, and because she hangs around her brother, Harry, and Hermione enough. Granted, she's very OOC, but she will remain IC to my story with her OOC attitude. That's just the way it it's going to be. If you don't like it, then don't read my story. No one's forcing you to. And I didn't say that Tom didn't kill his father.

If you feel the need to flame me, go for it. But please, flame me with _style_.

Also, if you haven't read my edited version of chapter one, it'd be a good idea to. I've made some changes that may or may not be significant later. ;P

Oh yeah. This story's in a C2. Why am I in a C2? I never asked to be in a C2. And it's a darkfic C2, to boot. This isn't a darkfic! BAH. I have no idea how C2's work, anyway.

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_4 September 1997_

_I have it._

_I have Tom Riddle's diary. I've just received it a minute ago. I'm afraid to open it… I'm afraid to _write_ in it. It has a few holes in it, but they're all pretty shallow and not very wide. Even so, I know that there's a chance that Tom could take control over me again. But I can handle this. I can handle him... Right?_

Ginny set her quill down, closing her diary (as opposed to Tom's). Tom's diary sat next to hers, wrapped in parchment and tied with twine. Because she was in the common room, anyone could see it - including Harry. If Harry saw it, she was done for. He knew what Tom's diary looked like. He did, after all, save her in her first year. She just hoped that she wouldn't need saving again.

"Ron, what time is it?"

"Half past," he said, not looking up from _Quidditch Through the Ages: Quidditch of the New Age,_ the latest and greatest Quidditch book on the market. It was a present from Hermione for his last birthday, and Ron had read it over a hundred times since then. Hermione's 'must-read-until-memorized' habit must have rubbed off on him.

She stared at him, blinking slowly. She let out an aggravated sigh, "Half past _what,_ Ronnie?"

"Five," he replied without hesitation. He still hadn't looked up from his book — not that she really cared, anyway. The rest of her dorm mates wouldn't be back until after supper. Even then, they'd end up knocking about in the common room until nearly ten, like they always did.

Grabbing her diary, Tom's diary, and a few quills, she retreated to the sixth year girls' dorm room. She dropped her belongings on the bed, and then climbed on top. Ginny sat with her back against the wall, cross-legged. Her pulse quickened as she stared at Tom's diary.

_Blink_.

'I should probably open it, then.'

_Blink_.

The hands on the clock seemed louder than usual. Their ticking taunted her, reminding her that every second that she sat staring and blinking was a second closer to when her dorm mates would be back.

_Tick, tick, tick. _

'Yep, I'm going to open it now.'

_Blink_.

She didn't move. Somehow, Ginny couldn't seem to gather enough courage to unwrap Tom's diary.

_Tick, tick, tick._

_Blink. _

_Tick, tick, tick. _

"Oh bloody hell," she grumbled, reaching with a shaky hand for the tattered diary. She hastily tore the twine and parchment off, and flung the diary open.

Ginny picked up a quill with her right hand (as she was left-handed) and dipped it in an open bottle of ink.

'I'm a Gryffindor for a reason,' she told herself, hesitantly bringing the quill to the paper.

_'Hello,'_ she wrote. Her writing looked like it belonged to a four-year-old. She skipped around a few holes while she wrote. 'I was told that I wasn't supposed to write in you, because you could write back. Who are you?'

_'Hello. My name is Tom Riddle. Who are you?'_ The words appeared almost out of nowhere.

'Yeah, he's still in there,' she thought.

A drop of ink splattered onto the page, and it slowly faded and disappeared. Ginny switched the quill to her left hand, and wrote again. 'I'm sure you bloody well know who this is.'

She began to stab the diary page with her quill, then picked said diary up and threw it across the room. Various messages appeared, but she only caught _'what the _hell_, Ginevra!'_ before the diary was too far away to read. It hit the wall loudly, bouncing off and hitting the headboard of another bed before landing on the floor.

Ginny picked the diary back up and bit the corner as hard as she could. She twisted around and used the force of her entire body to chuck the diary (which was still in her mouth when she did so) back to the other side of the room. The diary bounced off of the wall and lay open near her bed. The momentum of twisting around caused Ginny to lose her footing and fall forward. She caught herself with her hands and crawled over to the diary. She reached on top of her bed, feeling for the ink and a quill. Ink splattered all over the diary (all of which sunk in and disappeared) as she slammed the quill down on the page. Ginny dipped her quill into the ink and scribbled down her next message:

_'You had that coming.'_

_'Ginevra Weasley, I will get you back for that. Without a doubt.'_

_'Oh, I'm real scared. Big bad talking diary, watch out!'_

_'The big bad talking diary got you before.'  
_  
Ginny paused. Ink rolled off of her quill and dripped onto the diary.

_'Damn it, Tom!'_ she finally wrote. _'I don't understand you. I don't suppose anyone does. I bet you probably don't even understand yourself. What do you plan to accomplish by destroying the world? You'll destroy yourself with it. You're human. Even if on the outside you look like a stupid reptile thing, you're still human on the inside. You'll still die. If you want to commit suicide that bad, taking everyone else with you isn't the best way to go about it.'  
_  
No response.

_'Hey Tom?'_

___'Hey Ginny?'_

She paused. ___'I missed you.'_

She regretted writing it afterward. But even if she hadn't, Tom still would have known. Tom had a way with knowing everything.

Tom did not reply.

Ginny continued writing.___ 'Why did you want to kill me? You're bloody brilliant, Tom. I know you are. There had to have been another way. Why do you have to be so sadistic? Are you really saying that two people made you become such a bitch about life? As for your father –'_

___'You know nothing about my father' _appeared on the page before she could continue writing.

___'I know a lot about your father. He was a Muggle. You were named after him. He left your mother when he found out she was a witch — or so, that's what you've been told. Do you know it's the truth? Did you ever try to contact your father and find out his point of view? Maybe you have the story wrong. Maybe everyone has the story wrong.'_

___'My father didn't care about me, just like he didn't care about my mother. My mother was so depressed over him leaving that no Draft of Peace, no Wit-Sharpening Potion, no Perbeatus Draught would work on her. And then, I was left in an orphanage — A _Muggle_ orphanage. He didn't even have the decency to raise his own son.'_

Ginny scoffed.___ 'And how do you know this? Your mother died giving birth to you. What you know about her is strictly hearsay. And anyway, your father was a sodding _Muggle_ — who has long since been dead thanks to your future self, I might add. That's no reason to murder yourself and the rest of the world.'  
_  
He didn't answer. She smiled, thinking that she was making sense to him. But the thought disappeared almost as quickly as it had come. Her, make sense to Tom Riddle — Lord Voldemort?

'Get real, Ginny,' she thought.

___'Well Ginevra, then I withdrawal my objections.'_

Her heart skipped a beat with excitement. ___'Really?'_she scrawled happily.

___'No,'_ came his reply, almost instantly. She sighed.

___'You know, I'm sure there's a way to get revenge on the wasted Muggle population without bringing the entire world down into darkness and chaos...'_

___'I'm sure,' _he responded. Ginny could practically hear the sarcasm in his voice. She rolled her eyes. Ink dripped off her quill as she paused, rubbing her temples. She contemplated how to phrase the things running through her mind.

___'Tom, I'm going to be truthful. I want to help you become the Dark Lord — _you_, not this pathetic "Fear-Me-I-Look-Like-A-Snake" Lord Voldemort running around now. Seriously Tom, if you want to take on a new form, or even a second form… Or a third or fourth form… Looking like a snake is not scary. It's just stupid.'  
_  
_'I'll be sure to keep that in mind. Do you think the Death Eaters would mind a diary as a second form? Do you find that frightening enough?'_

___'Ha, ha.'_ She wrote sarcastically, but couldn't help but stifle a small laugh._'I have a plan to get you out of the diary. I've got the whole thing planned out… It's sick, it's twisted, and, of course, it's incredibly dangerous, but I think I can pull it off. I need your cooperation with this, though... I need to reopen the Chamber of Secrets. Yes, again... But I'm afraid that I've forgotten how. After all, you possessed me when I first opened it. And is that Basilisk still around? It could prove to be quite helpful...'  
_  
_'Your saviour killed her, and even if it were alive, it wouldn't listen to you. You aren't a Parselmouth or the Heir of Slytherin. Anyway, the Chamber of Secrets is pretty much destroyed.'  
_  
_'Oh well, it'll just need a little fixer-upper, now won't it? I remember it being salvageable when I left. It'll be a lot of work, but with the right spells and a bit of elbow grease I can get it done. Also, I have a cute little Crup puppy right now, and with any luck I will be able to lure a few Red Caps out of the Forbidden Forest… I've owled Mr. Borgin and a few other shop owners, offering quite a purse to the first person to get their hands on a Basilisk egg for me. _

___'I'll be visiting Charlie in Romania over Christmas break, as well... I've told you that he works with dragons, right? Well, a dragon egg would be nice. And maybe I'll come in contact with a vampire or two. It's not uncommon, but last time I tried to have a conversation with one my whole family "came to the rescue,"'_ she scribbled quickly before Tom could get a word in.

___'I take it you've had this planned for quite some time.'_

___'More or less. But, eh… Can you teach me Parseltongue?'_ Ginny bit her lip, her heartbeat quickening anxiously for his response.

___'It cannot be taught.'_ Her heart sunk.

___'Tom, you have to try. How the hell am I supposed to open the Chamber of Secrets and control a Basilisk while waiting for you to return? And think, you'd be the first wizard ever in history to perform such a great deed.'  
_  
As an afterthought, she wrote_'Tom, I am helping you out of my own free will. There'll be no Harry Potter or anyone else to save me this time. But if you plan on killing me ____—____ and I will gladly die for your cause, Tom ____—____ please do it after you've kicked your older self off his rocker (and hopefully kill him, too) and become the new Lord Voldemort.'_

Two minutes later, a message rolled across the page. It read, ___'Alright Ginevra, but you're setting yourself up for disappointment.'_

___-_

___---_

___- _

Ginny sat cross-legged on her bed, hiding under her covers with her wand lit and Tom's diary open. He was writing Parseltongue words phonetically in English for her to learn. Ginny had allowed him to enter her mind so he could teach her.

"Ssssss. Ssssssh. Ssssssheshhhsha…Shashlashhh… Shloppa bo boppa, banana ramma fo foppa, mi my mo moppa, shloppa!"

'Cracking jokes isn't going to make you learn Parseltongue. Do it again!' Tom growled inside her head. Ginny had allowed him to 'possess' her again, but this time he wasn't controlling her; she was doing favours for him out of her own free will.

"Ssssheshhhhhhaa. Ssssssh — Blast it! Can't you just open the Chamber for me?"

'You wanted to learn Parseltongue, and you will learn it or admit defeat! Now, do it again!'

"Heshhhhhassssssseeee — Tom, I –"

'Again!'

"Shhhhheeesssssaaaa… I really –"

'Do not just read the words! Do not think that you're talking in another language; to you it should sound like English! Parseltongue is not like any other foreign language you've learned.'

'Well, then maybe you should try another tactic, rather than spelling out words for me phonetically,' Ginny grumbled.

"Go to sleep, Ginny," Janis Davies mumbled sleepily from across the room. Ginny paled visibly.

'Great job, Ginevra. Forget to put up a silencing charm around your bed so your dorm mates will know all about the evil things you're planning!' Tom growled, his voice echoing through her head.

Ginny slammed Tom's diary shut and crawled out from under her covers. Grabbing her wand from atop the small, nightstand-like cabinet next to her bed, she tiptoed quietly around the room. She cast _Obliviate_ on each of her dorm mates individually before returning to her bed.

'I hope you're experienced with your memory charms, girl. You'd better hope that you didn't turn them all completely nutters.'

'Lucky for us, I'm the top in my class,' Ginny boasted, climbing into bed and letting sleep overcome her.

-

---

-

The next morning, when all of her dorm mates (and nearly all of the rest of the school) were down in the Great Hall eating breakfast, Ginny remained in her dorm. She sat on the ledge of the open window directly opposite the door to the staircase leading to the common room, gazing out at the vast Hogwarts grounds. Ginny took a long drag of what Muggles called a 'cigrit' or a 'cirget' or whatever. A few blobs of colour could be distinguished down by the lake. Ginny assumed that they were students whom had also chosen to skip breakfast.

'That's a disgusting, filthy habit, I'll have you know,' Tom griped.

Ginny shrugged, taking another drag. "So I've been told."

'As long as I'm sharing your body, I will not allow you to… To 'smoke,' as Muggles call it.'

"I'll quit after this packet."

'You're lying.'

"Yeah, well." Ginny put the cigarette out on the side of the castle below her, then flicked the butt out the window. She climbed off the windowsill and grabbed her rucksack, stuffing parchment, quills, and the books she'd need for the day into it. She slung it over her shoulder, heading down to the common room.

To Ginny's surprise, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat on the sofa instead of being at breakfast like she had anticipated. They were looking at sheets of parchment scribbled with notes, no doubt written by Hermione.

"Bloody Nora, you're studying already? It's the first day of school!" Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Word has it that Snape's planning a pop quiz to see what people remember from last year. This is crucial for us Seventh Years; we have to start studying for the N.E.W.T.s in June."

"That's naff, y'know that?" Ginny said as she crossed toward the portrait hole.

"Oh Merlin, Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed as Ginny passed her, bringing a hand to her nose. Ginny turned to face her, annoyed.

"What's up, 'Mione?"

"You smell like you've been smoking fags! Don't you know about the health risks! You could get lung cancer or –"

"Well then good thing medical witches can fix that sort of thing, eh?" Ginny snapped before storming out of the common room. She heard Ron mumble "what's a fag?" before the Fat Lady swung shut behind her.

"My, my. I haven't heard of a Gryffindor smoking since the seventies!" the Fat Lady chirped as Ginny stomped down the corridor.

'I told you it was a bad habit.'

"Bugger off, Tom!"

"Last I heard talking to yourself was enough to get you locked away at St. Mungo's. I'd be careful, if I were you."

Ginny nearly jumped a foot in the air. She spun around, seeing Draco leaning coolly against the wall. Somehow she had walked right past him without seeing him. "Oh, fuck me! Draco, what the hell are you doing pissing around in the Gryffindor corridor!"

"Waiting for you, ol' buddy, ol' pal," he said jokingly, pushing off the wall, taking long strides towards her.

'What a tosser,' Tom remarked.

"You're ridiculous. Tom thinks so, too," Ginny said, walking away. Draco followed her.

"I've decided what I want as my favour!" he called. Ginny stopped in her tracks, but didn't turn to face him. She could feel him come up behind her.

"Go with me to Hogsmeade next Saturday," he continued in a low voice, placing his hands on her shoulders.

Ginny laughed, looking at him over her shoulder. "You're off your trolley! No. I won't do it. Pick another favour."

"You said _anything_."

'He _really_ is a tosser.'

"Put a sock in it, Tom!"

"I think _you're_ the one off your trolley, mate."

"I won't do it!" She shrugged out of Draco's grasp. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to Charms."

As Ginny walked away, Draco replayed the past events in his mind. He had never been turned down for a date to Hogsmeade before… However, that wasn't what bothered him the most: it was the fact that when she wasn't talking to herself — she was talking to Tom.

Ginny Weasley had been repossessed.

-

* * *

-

POST-CHAPTER NOTES: Janis Davies is an original character. I really wanted to not use any OC's in this story, and only use canon characters… But the only Gryffindors in Ginny's year that are mentioned in the books are Ginny and Colin Creevy. Therefore, I will have to invent all of her dorm mates.

And by the way, I actually do like Hermione. But with the way I portray Ginny, it'd just make things more fun if Hermione was totally icky towards her.


	3. Twenty Three Unforgivables

PRE-CHAPTER NOTES: Three cheers for the HP-Lexicon! Also, I've recently stumbled upon a story called "Walking Higher" by Faith Accompli (which is a fantastic story, I might add.) Within reading the first chapter, I realized that my story idea is slightly similar to hers. Albeit, both of our stories include bringing Tom Riddle back from the dead via his diary, my story is going in a completely different direction than hers. Therefore, anyone who flames me on this basis will be promptly chucked off a cliff.

-

* * *

-

In actuality, Ginny was not going to Charms: she was going exploring. She generally wasn't one for skiving off, but she just happened to be particularly curious at the time — maybe it was Tom's doing. In any case, Hogwarts was huge, and barely a third of it (if that) was used for classrooms and dorms. The entire north end of the castle was unused, as was the sixth floor. Students were generally discouraged from wandering; since the castle had a mind of its own and could change whenever it felt like it, it didn't take much to get lost .

But wander she did — and needless to say, she became lost fairly quickly. The corridor was entirely empty, save dust, cobwebs, and the occasional statue. Most of the doors stuck shut so horribly that not even _Alohomora_ could open them. The doors that did open led to old, dusty classrooms that looked as if they had not been used in at least a century. Ginny was led to believe the castle once held many more students than it did now, which made her question why the number had shrunk so significantly.

The corridor then took a 90-degree turn to the right, and then dead ended a few metres after that. However, when Ginny turned to go back the way she came, she was faced with a stone wall.

"But... I-I just came that way –"

'It's Hogwarts,' Tom reminded her, 'It does what it wants.'

Ginny about-faced and the once-dead end was a corridor that curved sharply to the left. She grumbled to herself, knowing that she would probably spend the rest of the day trying to find her way to someplace recognisable.

'Stop,' Tom commanded. He paused. 'Turn left.'

"Tom, there is no place to turn into. I'll walk into a wall!"

'Turn left. And walk quickly,' he commanded more fiercely.

Ginny sighed, shutting her eyes tightly, walking toward the wall. She opened an eye to peek, and in doing so she realised that she was no longer facing a stone wall. Instead, she was in a large room with lavish silver and dark green decorations: wooden chairs with green velvet on the seats surrounding a round dining table which seemed to be cast iron charmed to appear silver, a throne that matched the chairs and a smaller coffee table that matched the dining table, silver drapes across the sun-faded emerald-painted stone walls… Even the doors and fireplace were silver and green. There was a darker green rectangle on the wall to her right, where Ginny assumed a painting had once hung.

'Welcome to the private chambers of Salazar Slytherin.'

"The founders got private chambers? Lucky bastards," she mumbled to herself.

'Of course they did,' Tom scoffed, 'They wouldn't exactly share the dormitories with the students, would they?'

Ginny looked down, feeling stupid for even making such a remark.

'The door on the far left of the back wall leads to his bedchambers,' Tom continued, 'and the door straight ahead is his study and personal library. On the right, there's a hole behind the tapestry of the Adder that leads to the old Slytherin common room.'

"_Someone's_ been here before." Ginny smiled. "And I wasn't aware that there were 'old' Slytherin dorms…"

'According to one of the diaries kept by Salazar in his study, the Slytherin dormitories were once on the north end of the fourth floor when Hogwarts first opened. It was destroyed in some great battle against some evil person, and by the time it was rebuilt, the Slytherin students decided that they were perfectly comfortable staying in the Dungeons. Thus, they are now unused. Salazar did not really go into specifics — my guess is that person, the battles, and everything else associated with it is hush-hush and under lock and key somewhere at the Ministry of Magic.'

Ginny let out a short "oh" before browsing the chambers. They were surprisingly not dusty; she figured that the house elves took great care of this room. She made a mental note to visit the kitchens and ask a few of them about it. The bedroom was pretty basic: a four-poster wooden bed backed against the wall with (surprise) green coverings and a small sideboard to the left.

The study, however, was fairly large, with mostly-full shelves along the walls. Ginny figured that missing books had been donated to the library, and quite possibly the Restricted Section. She browsed the titles, picking out books to stuff into her rucksack: a stack of diaries, an early copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ (to search for deleted content on the mystery 'evil person' and the battles against them), a scroll marked 'map of Hogwarts,' _Lost and Found: An Encyclopaedia of Rediscovered Ancient Magic_, and _An In-Depth Study of Why The Twenty-Three Unforgivable Curses are Unforgivable._ The last book especially sparked her interest. Obviously, twenty of the Unforgivables had been forgotten or erased from history. As she turned to leave, a final book caught her eye. It was another journal, but it was marked with thick, bold letters: 'Addinox vs. Hogwarts, c. AD 917.' She grabbed the last journal and stuffed it into her sack as well, leaving the study and heading to explore the old Slytherin common room.

The common room was huge — twice the size of the Gryffindor common room, but less decorated. In fact, it was barely decorated at all. There were a few silver drapes and a statue of a gargoyle in one corner and nothing more. Ginny sat down on a bench, stretching her legs.

"Do you think Dumbledore has any charms on this place? I mean, do you think he watches it?"

'He probably doesn't know that it exists. It's not exactly in_ Hogwarts: A History_, and the only way in is through Salazar's chambers or through that gargoyle over there.'

Ginny smiled. "This would make a fantastic base for our operations. Tom, do you know how to get here and to Salazar's chambers off-hand?"

'Of course.'

-

---

-

"Oy, Gin! Where the bloody 'ell 'ave you been?"

"A Cockney, Ron, really — you're turning into a sodding Cockney," Ginny chastised.

"Mind your tongue, young lady," he scolded.

'Tell him to shove off. We've got reading to do,' Tom said.

"Shove off, Ron. We've got reading to do," she said, turning on her heel walking away.

"Who's 'we?'" Ron called after her, but Ginny ignored him, rolling her eyes as she climbed the stairs to her dormitory.

Ginny literally flopped down on her bed with a sigh. She slid her rucksack off her shoulders and sat it next to her. Reaching inside it, she pulled out the book on the Unforgivable Curses and flipped it open to the first page. Just as she did so, Hermione came up the stairs and into the sixth year girls' dorm.

"Hey Gin, your brother was worried sick about you, y'know."

"I bet he was." She rolled her eyes, trying to concentrate on the book.

"That book looks positively ancient! What is it? Did you find it in the library?" Hermione continued, fascinated with Ginny's find.

Ginny held the book up so Hermione could read the title, but said nothing. Hermione silently read the title, and her eyes nearly bugged out.

"Oh gosh, Gin! Do you know what this means?"

"Yep," Ginny replied, but Hermione ignored her response. Hermione was off on a tangent.

'Are you going to let her just take your book like that? Really now," Tom chided.

"Twenty of the Unforgivables have been lost! Or they're being kept a secret by the Ministry! Or," Hermione gasped, "Twenty of the Unforgivables are now forgivable! Do you mind if I see that?" Hermione snatched the book from Ginny's hands without waiting for a reply. She sat down on the end of Ginny's bed, flipping to a random page and reading aloud to her.

"'_Caducus_, the doom curse, is recorded to have first been banned in Vascona (now Western Kingdom of Leon and Eastern Kingdom of Pamplona)' — that's Northern Spain if you didn't know — 'in AD 512. It was officially deemed an Unforgivable Curse in AD 634 by the Wizards' Council at a meeting in Mercia (central Kingdom of England) and banned internationally –'"

'I am the Heir of Slytherin and as far as I'm concerned, these books belong to me. I will _not_ have that Mudblood filth pawing all over my book! Now tell her to hand it over or I will!'

"'The curse roughly translates to 'destined to die,' and is so aptly named because once cast –'"

"_Hermione_," Ginny interrupted, "I'm trying to study."

"Oh, sorry! Right then, here you go," she said, shutting the book and handing it back to Ginny. "Will you be at dinner, or do you plan on disappearing again?"

Ginny glowered. "Yes," she spat, "I'll be there."

As soon as Hermione was out of the dorm, Ginny rolled her eyes again and reached into her rucksack for a cigarette and immediately lit it, taking a long drag.

-

---

-

Dinner was a disaster. Choruses of "where have you been?" and "you weren't in class; are you ill?" seemed to continue through the entire meal. She took a bite of her shepherd's pie as Dean Thomas took a seat next to her.

"Hey, Gin! I noticed you weren't at breakfast or lunch today. Are you feeling okay?" he paused, cracking a smile in jest. "Or were you skiving off? I knew it, our ickle Ginnykins is a right troublemaker, she is!"

Ginny slammed her fork down in anger. "I'm _fine_, Dean. And what I do and where for that matter has nothing to do with any of you lot," she seethed, turning to Hermione. "And you! Yes, I smoke fags. Last I checked, sixteen was the legal age to smoke them, and I do recall someone being of that age... Hmm, let's see — oh right, that's me! Now, if you'll excuse me…" She stood abruptly.

"We were just worried about you, Gin," Ron said sheepishly.

"Maybe you didn't hear me on the train at the start of school — try worrying about someone else for once! Neville blows things up daily and I never hear you worrying about him!"

Neville's face reddened with a combination of embarrassment and insult, and Ginny felt a pang of guilt at her remark. She pushed the feeling aside and let out a short 'hmph,' lifting her nose skyward and stomping out of the Great Hall.

"Bleeding idiots, the lot of them," she muttered to herself as she rounded a corner and climbed another set of the many staircases leading to the seventh floor.

'You consort with Gryffindors, Ginevra. What did you expect?' Tom said. Ginny could practically feel him smirk.

"Oh shut up, you," she said as she neared the Fat Lady. "'Draco Malfoy is a regular shirt lifter,'" Ginny quoted Hermione's ridiculous choice of password.

The Fat Lady turned to a lady in a white dress who was visiting her painting. "That's the girl, deary! She's the one that I was talking about earlier."

"'Draco Malfoy is a regular shirt lifter,'" she said more firmly.

"She smokes, you know," the Fat Lady continued to her friend. "Why, you can smell the smoke right off her!"

"You can't smell," Ginny reminded her. "Will you just let me in already?"

"You have to say the password, dear."

Ginny closed her eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. "'Draco Malfoy is a regular shirt lifter!'"

"Am I now?" came from behind her as the Fat Lady swung open.

"Bugger-all, Draco!" she shouted. Ginny walked around to the side of the portrait hole, where the Fat Lady now faced. "This boy is a Slytherin. He may know the password, but do not let him in. Do you hear me?"

"But Ginny, love! Don't you want me to come visit on those long nights when you're oh-so-lonely?" Draco joked, placing his hands over his heart.

"He's a real looker, deary. He'd be a smart match, Slytherin or not," the Fat Lady commented.

Ginny narrowed her eyes, setting her jaw and climbed through the portrait hole. To her luck, it swung closed before Draco could come after her. She marched up the stairs to her dormitory, where Janis Davies was in the middle of a heated snog-session with her girlfriend, Cecilia Banks.

"Out! Out, get _out_!" Ginny shouted, pointing to the door. The two girls jumped apart, startled. Janis wiped her smudged lipstick from her face and the two girls scurried out of the dorm room like dogs with their tails between their legs.

"She may be sex on legs but she sure is pissy," she heard Cecilia tell Janis as they scrambled down the stairs.

Ginny buried her hands in her hair, distraught. She paced back and forth a few times before intentionally falling forward on her bed, reaching into her rucksack for her pack of cigarettes.

'Moody, are we?'

"Don't be a dick, Tom," she growled, rolling over and lighting her cigarette with her wand.

'Might I remind you that it was _your_ idea for us to share a body?'

"Well maybe it'd be a good idea if I put you back in the diary! How'd you like that, huh!"

'You wouldn't do that.'

"And what makes you so sure?"

'You know bloody well what "makes me so sure."'

"I really think you're going mad, talking to yourself like that. You should probably get help, yeah?" Draco said from the doorway.

'And the tosser returns,' Tom snorted.

"I thought I told the Fat Lady to not let you in!" Ginny shouted hysterically.

"She didn't. These two dykes climbed out the literal hole in the wall, complaining about you. I snuck in before the Big Fat Oaf snapped shut, like the sneaky little devil I am." He smirked, obviously proud of himself.

"Get _out_!" she screamed, chucking her cigarette at him.

Draco jumped backwards trying to avoid being burnt. He promptly stomped on it as it hit the floor, putting it out. "Hey, hey! There's no need for that –"

"And now you made me waste a perfectly good cigarette!" She jumped up, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him toward the stairs. He nearly toppled over, but he caught himself against the wall, regaining his footing.

She pulled her wand from her pocket, pointing it at him. "I will Bat-Bogey Hex you to Hell and back if you don't get out _now_!"

"Ginny –"

_"Naresium Chiroptera!"_

Draco's hand shot up to his nose as his bogies flew out, rapidly growing and attacking his face. He turned from her, running down the stairs.

"And stay out!" she hollered at him. Ginny heard the Fat Lady open and close.

'Well done. I must say, I'm impressed.'

"Belt up, I'm cross with you as well," she scowled, pulling another cigarette out of her pack and lighting it.

-

---

-

Tom normally wouldn't possess Ginny, but she has been making little effort to find out how to revive him and he felt it necessary to speed the process along a bit. And what better way to do so when Harry sodding Potter was sitting in the common room alone at midnight?

"Hey Harry," he began, trying his best to mimic the way Ginny would speak to her comrades. "I was hoping we could talk for a bit? About the spell which was used to bring You-Know-Who back, since we never really did… And since I'm in the D.A. and all…"

"Sure, Gin. What do you want to know?"

Perfect.

-

---

-

Ginny woke up with a start, sitting up abruptly. She glanced at the clock — it was nearly two in the morning. Somehow, she had a feeling that Tom had done something while she was 'sleeping.'

"Tom," she growled.

'Yes?' he replied innocently.

"What'd you do?"

'Oh you know… A bit of this, a bit of that. I found out how my older self was reincarnated, spell and gory details and all. I figured it'd help.'

"Yes, but — you didn't ask me! I could have done it!"

'But you didn't.'

"Go to _sleep_, Ginny," Janis groaned.

Ginny lowered her voice to a whisper. "Well you haven't been much of a help either," she countered. "You expect me to open the Chamber of Secrets when you've barely taught me Parseltongue?"

'Tomorrow, then.'

"Good."

She lay back down and rolled over in an attempt to find a comfortable position. Ginny was about to fall asleep when Tom interrupted: 'Oh, and you're going to Hogsmeade with Harry on Saturday, by the way.'

"But I'm supposed to go with Draco!"

'You declined.'

"Yes, but I was going to apologise for the Bat-Bogey Hex and –"

'Find a new way to apologise.'

She scrunched up her face, rolling over again. "Fine," she gave in, closing her eyes and falling asleep.

-

* * *

-

POST-CHAPTER NOTES: The incantation to the Bat-Bogey Hex is unknown, so I made it up. 'Naresium' is Latin for 'nostrils,' and 'chiroptera' is the scientific order of bats. Also, don't flame me because I didn't "warn" about a lesbian reference. Lesbian and homosexual themes should not have to be "warned" about. And if I should, then maybe everyone else should start "warning" about heterosexual themes, yeah?


End file.
